


All Roads Lead

by Jenwryn



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/F, Future Fic, Romance, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-22
Updated: 2009-04-22
Packaged: 2017-10-02 08:13:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenwryn/pseuds/Jenwryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The third time Orihime's apartment is broken into, Tatsuki starts to think the girl should get herself a gun, or something.</p><p>Future fic, I imagine them as being in their later teens here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Roads Lead

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ's bleach_contest: the prompt was "pistol".

"You need to get yourself a gun, or something," says Tatsuki, the third time that Orihime's one-room apartment is broken into.

Orihime looks up at her, from where she's kneeling gingerly on the floor, sweeping shards of glass onto a piece of old newspaper. "Huh?" she asks, because her mind had been in the middle of a rather elaborate fantasy involving massive ice monsters, a gleaming princess crown, and Kurosaki-kun, the latter present simply because he has, over the years, become such a staple feature of her daydreams that she rather thinks she'd feel mean if she left him out, even though she hasn't fancied him _that way _for ages.

Tatsuki is standing in the middle of the room, one hand upon her hip, and her other hand rubbing at her face in a vague attempt to keep awake. Given that it's three o'clock in the morning, and the only light from beyond the broken window is coming from a single, flickering street lamp, the dark-haired girl really thinks that she kind of has the right to be half-awake. Not that Orihime had woken her up, of course. She hadn't phoned her, or asked her to come over - that wouldn't be like Orihime at all, seeing as she always seems to be under the impression that she can deal with everything herself, or perhaps it's more that she doesn't even see things as _needing_ to be dealt with in the first place. Either way, she never wants to be a nuisance to anyone, despite the fact that Tatsuki has tried just about everything in her power - short of actually just grabbing those soft shoulders and shaking some sense into the girl - to convince her that she couldn't be a nuisance if she tried; not to Tatsuki, anyway.

Regardless, tonight she'd simply woken up with the cold certainty that something was wrong.

And had ended up here.

As always.

All roads, she thinks, in her life, at any rate, lead to Orihime's front door.

Which was also, for the record, where she had found the girl, fiddling with the lock, in her too-cheerful pyjamas, all on her own, and shivering slightly from the cold.

"A gun," repeats Tatsuki vaguely now, trying not to be distracted by the rhythmic sway of Orihime's braless breasts, beneath her pyjama top. "You know. If they were legal. Or a really big dog. Or something."

Orihime laughs at that, no doubt imagining the conversation which would ensue, between herself and her grumpy landlord, if she were to ask for permission to keep a pet of that kind. Her laugh becomes a yawn, though, as she finishes with the brush, then folds the corners of the newspaper in onto themselves carefully, before carrying the whole package over to the rubbish bin in her midget-sized kitchen. "Nothing was stolen," she says with a shrug, hanging the broom on its nail beside her little refrigerator, and dusting her hands on her pyjama pants. "And nobody tried to hurt me. Besides, I don't need a gun. I have Tsubaki."

Tatsuki rolls her eyes, when Orihime has her head turned and cannot see her. "Not much use to you, Hime, unless you're truly willing to do some damage with him. Which you never are, unless someone else is in trouble."

"I wonder what to do about the lock for tonight..." Orihime is musing to herself, yawning even louder now, and glancing from the door to her futon, clearly not listening to a word her friend is saying, and obviously wishing she were back in bed already.

Tatsuki rolls her eyes again, and this time she doesn't care whether the girl sees her or not. "I already fixed it," she says. "At least, enough for tonight. Besides, I'd be more worried about the window, really, but I guess nobody's going to break into some place that's just been broken into. We can call a repairman tomorrow... well, in the morning, whatever."

Orihime is good, Tatsuki thinks, at running on the wave of events and then slumping when her part has been done - now she's yawning again and, when Tatsuki sits herself down at the edge of the girl's futon, and pats it encouragingly, she doesn't need to be told twice. Orihime pads over to her, with soft, sock-covered steps, and curls up into her blankets without a moment's pause. Blinking slowly, she smiles up at Tatsuki, who has moved just a little so as not to be in the way, and says, "Stay. It's much too dark to walk back home."

"See what I mean?" complains Tatsuki, but, even as she's muttering about it, she's doing a quick inspection of her jeans, which leads to her taking them off, given that they have too much of yesterday's dirt on them. Shivering slightly, because Orihime's flat never has quite enough heating to be just right, she slides in beneath the blankets as well, close behind her friend, because there's not truly room for two. "You're always so worried about everyone else," she whispers. "_I_ can take care of myself, you know?"

Orihime feels much too good against her like this, but she's probably oblivious of that as well, because she just sighs and snuggles back closer, wriggling until Tatsuki gives in and wraps her arms around her, her hands acutely aware-and-warm against the bare skin of Orihime's arms. One of these days, Tatsuki thinks, she's going to have to take her fighting spirit, pour it into another sphere of her life, and tell Orihime exactly what it does to her, when they're close like this. But not tonight. Tonight she can play Orihime's protector, and breathe in the scent of her hair, and listen for noises that don't belong, and count the rise and fall of her gentle breathing.

Tatsuki closes her eyes and lets the side of her face rest against the back of Orihime's head.

"Don't need a gun," the bright-haired girl mumbles through the blankets and her sleepiness. "I have Tatsuki... should keep Tatsuki... landlord would like her much better than a dog..."

Tatsuki's eyes open slowly again. "Orihime..." she begins, but then she feels the change to the weight against her arms, growing heavier, softer, and knows that the girl is already asleep.

It can wait.


End file.
